Evergreen is my garden
It is the peace that once came from warm hugs and good laughs
It is the place where skies are blue yet full of perfect clouds
It is the breath of fresh air, when smoke and fumes abound
It is a far away place, yet right outside my door
It is my siren, calling to me, midday or in the nighttime,
a promise of refuge from the incessant storm of the seas
Evergreen is my garden
Where grief and turmoil swirl into blissfull delerium
Where friendships are made, fused and bonded, and lost, eventually, to time
Where ferns and rhodedendrons are in need only of trimming
Where germinated seeds and budding flowers need only water and nutrients
Where weeds need only plucking
Where bees and hummingbirds sing, and ladybugs spend their days
counting their dots
Beyond my garden, plants have resorted to studying nihilism
their roots grasping at barren clay that whispers of apocalypse
Beyond my garden, children play house
with rubble that paints a grey and sickening image
Beyond my garden, weeds overtake the land
to which they feel so entitled, spreading their seed of materialism,
begging for their own reckoning
Beyond my garden, love is in short supply,
empathy lives in cruel unforgiving poverty,
and grief has become an underground society
But for me, my garden is evergreen,
and so to my garden I tend, I tend, I tend...